Superman comes to town

This man left me breathless today, and as a result, I nearly died... laughing.

Little Boy Blue

The picture that got me interested in www.markryden.com.

A Swedish Dream

Once upon a time, when I was still in university (yep, it was that long ago), I learned in a marketing class the concept that when you buy a product, you don't really buy the product per se, but the function that it serves. D'oh, of course, but until I actually read that in the book, I never really realized it. One of the most popular examples that illustrates this concept is a a cosmetic product. Us women might be enticed by the cute coloured lipgloss offered by the smart people behind Stila, but essentially, that's not what we're buying. Charles Revson, founder of Revlon, puts it down simply as this, "In the factory, we make cosmetics; in the store we sell hope."

Personally, I don't use much cosmetic products, so this example doesn't really sink in with me. But today I went to IKEA and it hit me immediately why people flock to that place anywhere in the world. IKEA is the adult version of Disneyland. You see, it may not be the happiest place on earth, but it sure makes you think that it will make your home the happiest place on earth.

Even flicking through the catalogue is a rewarding experience. Guys might identify the feeling while flicking through the Penthouse magazine. (Which is a rather funny analogy, if I could call myself funny, because the latest IKEA catalogue is now sitting right next to my toilet bowl...)

Of course, the previous two paragraphs are probably just my unconscious efforts to justify the number of things I want to buy from IKEA, hihihi. Eventually, I only came out with the things I really needed (good girl, me!), but now I can't get my mind off that cool bar table and that orange lamp shade. Geez.

I'm sure my IKEA dreams will come true one day, but for now, I guess I'd still come home to a half-furnished apartment :)

Awww shut up!

A comedian once said on TV that finding a soulmate is easy. Just look for someone who's not an asshole. I totally agree. Because so what if you two share the same interests if he always ditches you to watch footie (or hockey, or soccer) with his mates? Today, though, I realized that there's one more trait that's just as important: find someone who has the ability to listen. To other people, that is. If anything, it's probably one of the most important attributes your boyfriend or girlfriend must have.

Thankfully, I didn't realize this fact from my own boyfriend. It was thanks (or no thanks?) to this gentleman I was unfortunate to have had to speak to at work.

The guy was giving a reference for this woman he used to work with. Before we started, I told him that the interview would take approximately five minutes and asked him whether he'd be okay with that. He said that was fine. So off we went. Right off the bat, though, I knew - to my dismay - that he was one of those people who loved talking for talk's sake. But he was special. He was either in love with that woman, or he just loved hearing his own voice reverberate through the phone line. I put in practice all kinds of techniques available out there to cut him off politely for each question to prevent me from writing a 5000-word essay to present to the hiring manager, but it looks like I'd need new techniques after that. Finally, after way more than five minutes, I managed to ask all the questions I had to ask. But guess what, if normal people would take "Well thank you for your time today" as a farewell sentence, he took it as "Do you have any other comments?"

I said no less than five times, "Well [his name], thank you so much for your comments." But save for the last one - when I must've started to sound like I wanted to either scream, or cry, or fart out of frustration - he started a new trail of praises for that ex-colleague of his.

And this is the best part. Just before we hung up, he said, "That was more than five minutes, wasn't it?"

Asshole.

I love my job

I interview people on a daily basis for the purpose of employment references. It may not seem so, but it's a stressful job (but then again, which job isn't?), though there's always something that keeps us entertained, or... as the insider joke tells it, "keeps us checkin'".

Here are the top three things that cracked me up recently:

Me: What was he employed as at the time?
Referee: He was my bitch.
(Needless to say, I had to ask further about this candidate's responsibilities...)

Me: What's your position?
Referee: Sitting down.
(I was so tempted to scream, "Lame!", but decided to laugh along with him instead.)

Colleague: Is this a good time to speak to you?
Referee: I'm in labour at the moment, can I call you back?
(I can't remember what my colleague said in response, but I'm pretty sure the phone call didn't last that long.)

Cruel summer

Disini lagi musim festival nih. Sekarang ini lagi ada Francofolies, minggu sebelumnya ada Juste Pour Rire (Just For Laughs), dan minggu sebelomnya ada Jazz Festival. Itu yg gede-gede. Pada saat yg bersamaan, ada festival2 mini seperti Haitian Music Festival dan Les Nuits Afriques. Maklum, lagi summer. Terus terang, gua suka banget summer disini, soalnya gua bisa berkeliaran naek sepeda kemana-mana. One of the most fun things is discovering a nice looking restaurant or cafe in the middle of nowhere. Resenya ya... humidity-nya itu. Mesti mandi dua tiga kali sehari. Ganti kolor dua tiga kali sehari. Numpuk deh yg namanya cucian.

Aaaanyway.

Gua baru pindah nih, by the way. Akhirnya, gua punya tempat tinggal sendiri (dalam artian tinggal sendiri, walaupun masih nyewa) tanpa embel-embel roommates. I live in a small three and a half, a real-estate term here which means a place consisting of three rooms (bedroom, living room and kitchen) plus a bathroom (the half room). One thing I learned from moving to my own place was that moving is expensive. And I'm not only talking about the furnitures. I'm talking about inexpensive little things like a dish sponge, a broom, cleaning products, plates, cups, tea towels, kitchen knife, chopping board, and so on and so forth. In fact, I didn't have to pay much for furniture. The only thing I bought was my bed. The rest, like my coffee tables (x2), bedside drawers, and sofa, I picked up from the street. I love this city.

Except for one insane incident a few weeks ago.

It happened on Avenue Mont-Royal around 10pm. The boyfriend and I just got out of Tim Horton's, the donut shop, and we were walking back towards my place, not too far from there. At the same time, a young man was walking in the opposite direction on the same sidewalk. As we passed each other, I noticed a yellow-coloured something around his neck. Something that moved. Something that ressembled a... a... a... oh for fuck's sake, it was a snake! I screamed my lungs off as soon as I realized what I thought it was. For your information, at this point, I wasn't 100% sure that it was a real snake. I didn't think it was legal to walk around with that thing around your neck (but the shock was so great that I screamed anyway). I mean... hello? We're on a street lined with boutiques, restaurants and cafés! But then the man, hearing my anguish-filled scream, turned around and said, "Don't worry, it's not dangerous!"

My ex-roommate later confirmed that it was indeed a living snake, capable of breaking all the bones in your body (ok, this last point's an exaggeration), because he had seen it at Tam-Tam's, a weekly Sunday event at Parc Mont-Royal. And... as if I wasn't emotionally bruised enough, last week there was another snake-related incident about three blocks away from where I live. A woman discovered a python under her bed, and it was not hers.

So it's confirmed. I live in a neighbourhood that, God knows why, attracts snakes. Alright that's it. I'm going to start sprinkling salt around my windows and doors. Either that, or I'll have to see a shrink and get my phobia fixed.

Never dreamed you'd leave in summer

Two weeks went by without you, and finally, two days ago we met again. Our meeting, let me describe it in two words. Dark chocolate. Our conversation was sweet, and we were sweet to each other. And yet, an air of bitterness hung in the air, above our steaming cups of tea, a quietly persistent reminder of how not too long ago, our conversations were constantly plagued with questions, whose answers I could not bear to hear.

There is someone else I care about now, and for once, I'm going to let my head rule my life. I have placed too much trust in this thing called instinct. And it has let me down.

So I guess, this is where we part. Somewhere on a leafy street, in front of your car, one sunny late afternoon in July.